Anamnesis
by LilyBolt
Summary: A hunt gone awry causes Sam to realize he can recall too many instances of his brother hurting or suffering. But those aren't the only memories he has... A oneshot set shortly after 10x04 "Paper Moon". No slash.


**WARNING: Spoilers for 9x23 "Do You Believe In Miracles" onward, especially including 10x03 "Soul Survivor".**

 **Author's Note: To anyone wondering, this is not the story I'll release after the season 10 finale to help people battle the finale pain. This is just something I found hiding on my laptop, and it** **takes place sometime shortly after 10x04 "Paper Moon". :)  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.**

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Sam was running through the field shouting, "Dean? DEAN!" and cursing the fact that his voice was easily swallowed up by the howling winds around him.

 _I hate Nebraska weather_ , Sam thought bitterly as he continued calling for his brother in vain.

It was night, it was dark, and in the midst of their chase after a Black Dog Sam's foot had caught in an unseen prairie hole and he had gone down. It wasn't a terrible fall. His leg was fine, nothing was bleeding or broken, and he was even able to get back up all of a minute later. But upon standing he'd realized he had lost sight of his brother _and_ their target entirely. Then gunfire had erupted from somewhere off to his left, followed by an abrupt silence that made the ever-gusting winds seem even more intense.

Sam had begun a frantic search for Dean straight away, but unfortunately finding someone in the expansive grassy plains of Nebraska in the dead of night was no easy feat, and the time it was taking left Sam with too much opportunity to think.

Or perhaps more accurately, to panic.

What if Dean had missed his target with those shots, and what if the Dog had gotten to Dean before he could aim more precisely? What if he was lying somewhere in this grass, dead, because Sam had fallen behind at _exactly_ the wrong moment?

That thought spawned a whole slew of horrible flashbacks to a dreadful midnight hour in the town of New Harmony, Indiana. Painful images of Dean clawed and bloody circled his brain until a slightly more dangerous possibility surfaced in Sam's mind:

What if Dean had died, but hadn't _stayed_ dead?

In other words, what if Sam was unknowingly searching for that awful, black-eyed version of Dean, and what if he had failed his older brother to _that_ extent?

"DEAN!" Sam hollered yet again as he continued tramping across the uneven terrain, desperation truly beginning to set in.

This time Sam thought he heard a small sound come from his right and he veered toward it, continuing to yell. He spotted a dark shape lying in the grass three feet away, and as he approached cautiously, Sam realized it was the body of the Black Dog; deceased.

 _Well that's one problem dealt with at least_ , Sam concluded, trying to stay positive.

"Sa'y!" the noise came again.

It was choppy as it carried on the wind, but this time Sam was absolutely certain it was the well-worn nickname his brother loved to use whenever he was worried. Sam almost laughed in relief at the realization that his brother was freaking out about _him_. Not because it meant Dean was definitely in good condition, because it didn't ensure that at all. Dean could be bleeding out, but until he was certain Sam wasn't in the same boat he would still be more focused on his kid sibling than himself.

But it _did_ mean that Dean definitely wasn't a demon.

Another five feet of tracking, and Sam discovered the man himself lying in the dirt with tall grass surrounding him. More relief washed over Sam instantly as he was presented with full proof that Dean was alive.

 _Alive, and still Dean_, Sam thought gratefully.

"Hey! I'm right here!" Sam announced, rushing over and dropping to his knees next to his brother. Immediately he was scanning the other man for injuries, concerned by the way Dean was lying there without trying to stand up.

"Got the Dog," Dean said in a tone laced with discomfort.

"I noticed," Sam replied, still checking Dean over.

"Fell and jacked up my knee though. These freakin' holes all over the damn ground!" Dean griped.

"That's what tripped me up earlier, but I guess I just fall more gracefully than you," Sam joked as he continued scrutinizing Dean for any sign of wounds. Sam had been focusing on Dean's torso closely for indications of slashing from the Dog, but upon hearing Dean's comment he switched tactics and began inspecting his brother's legs. The right knee was notably swollen to the touch, and as Sam pressed on it lightly he gauged that the kneecap was also facing a rather exotic angle.

"Ow! What the hell are you-?" Dean snapped as Sam felt his way across the injury.

Sam quickly stopped what he was doing and responded, "Definitely sprained and I think it's actually dislocated, too. You're going to let me help you to the car and then I'm driving. I'll pop the knee back at the Bunker where there's an ice-pack for it."

Dean grumbled something about an 'insensitive bedside manner', but he allowed Sam to help pull him to a standing position and balance him so they could hobble back to the Impala together, Sam helping support the majority of Dean's weight.

They eventually made it to the car after a long, slow, heavily breezy trek, and Sam got his brother situated in the backseat so he could kick his leg up during the drive. Then he transported them all the way down into Kansas.

Sam blasted Dean's classic rock music to help distract the elder Winchester from the throbbing in his limb. He watched in the rear-view mirror as his brother did his best to zone out to Zeppelin through the pain, coming out of his daze occasionally to act as a backseat driver, or as Dean liked to call it, "a guardian of Baby's well-being", until at last Dean drifted into sleep.

Through it all Sam reminded himself how nice it was to see Dean focused on his music and his Impala, because Sam could recall a time not long ago when a very different version of his brother had sat in that same backseat and claimed the precious vehicle was "just a car".

Thinking about that lead Sam to a rush of gratitude that this hadn't been the hunt he now lived in fear of; a time when Dean ended up mortally wounded and the Mark of Cain forced him back into the demonic state from which Sam had only barely been able to retrieve him the first time.

Glancing at his now-lightly-snoring big brother, Sam was attacked by the recollection of yet another night's drive... Of Dean lying bloodied, still, and silent in that backseat through all of a 12 hour trip from a homeless encampment Muncie, Indiana to the Bunker in Lebanon, Kansas.

Sam took a deep breath, working to regain his composure. He stared again at Dean- watched him leaning against the door with his head pressed into the window and his injured leg splayed out across the bench-seat...

He watched his brother breathe.

It was then that Sam spotted the familiar reddish patch of flesh on Dean's right forearm, peeking out from under his rolled-up jacket sleeve- the one shaped like a backwards wonky 'f' which served as a constant reminder that Dean was alive, but far from _safe_ \- and the younger man tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

He was more determined than ever to fix that.

Sam was tired of having so many painful instances to reminisce; a plethora of memories of Dean in death and suffering and darkness... He wanted the chance for them to make better, brighter memories.

Then he smiled slightly.

Because he technically _did_ have that chance, didn't he? Whatever the future might hold, right now they were doing ok- at least by Winchester standards- and Sam wasn't only appreciative of the fact that Dean was still a living human being..

He was also grateful Dean was just _there_. By his side, whatever the situation, where he belonged.

Out of the blue another memory struck, yet it wasn't quite the same as the rest. Sam recalled Dean standing in a motel room many years ago, packing his duffel and reassuring Sam with one simple sentence:

 _As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you._

Admittedly it had been a silly vow- the sort of guarantee no one could make no matter how much they wanted to- but it had comforted Sam all the same, the important thing having been that he could trust his brother to always _try_.

So glancing back in the rear-view mirror once more, Sam silently promised Dean that as long as they were together, as brothers, then things would somehow be just fine.

Because Sam would always try, too.

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 **Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please do leave feedback if you get the chance. It's always appreciated. Also, good luck to everyone for the season 10 finale this Wednesday! ;)  
**

 **P.S. To clarify the title... "Anamnesis" is a word for remembering or reminiscing. It comes from Greek philosophical roots.**


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